Sinner;

[Sinner]

there is but one rule
hunt or be hunted

Sylva was no longer his. It was a downfall for sure. At least others would call it that. Sinner would not. Sylva was simply a steppingstone in the end. It was a step towards greater things. Things that have yet to come. Time was all he needed, and he had all the time in the world. Patience was simply a virtue and over the years he honed at learning it well. There was nothing holding him back now. He had no rules to follow. No invisible principles he needed to abide to that bounded the kingdoms and their territories together. It was the wild he followed, the hunt that controlled him now. Leaving Sylva behind had lifted a weight from his shoulders. A crown he could careless about now. The hellhound was never meant to bend the knee to another. He was always meant to be above it all. All of them that tried to make him obedient could never truly. All he has is the hunt now. The taste of flesh and blood consume him. The intoxication that fills him as he holds the life of another in his hands. Death fills him with life. He is simply a predator. Always will be. The forest has become his home again. It is where he finds his taste for blood. His taste for simple and easy things. He craves it more and more each time. His lips are dripping with blood as he feasts upon a kill not long ago. The deer lays lifeless on the ground, exposed wide. A carcass simply, but a feast for a hunter. With every bite he enjoys. The breaking of bones, the mauling of muscles and tendons tearing. There was no better enjoyment than this. The winter wind rustles the canopy of naked branches and what leaves remain attached above him. Something within the wind pulls him away from his feast. A familiar scent the wind carries, pushing it into his nostrils. He inhales it deeply. The scent feels so far away. A distant memory. A lifetime ago. He lifts his nose up into the air. Inhaling the cold winter wind once again. The source of the scent is near. Something within him hungers for it more than his banquet of deer. Sinner is pulled away from it. Taking steps towards the direction it comes involuntarily. He has no control, but he doesn’t try to pull away from it either. Carrying him forward, he follows the scent still. The forest begins to fade a bit as the treeline becomes dotted with a few of them. Within the distance, where the treeline breaks at the edge of the forest, does he finally find the source of it. Valdis. The dark wolf instantly bites his lips, still stained with the deer's blood, and considers returning to his lifeless deer, but the thought is quickly lost within the darkness of his mind. Instead, he continues forward. Closing the distance between them. He walks with pride while she stands there with her own personal pride. A piece of her he still admires to this day. “Valdis,” he greets her with a sweet tone, like milk and honey, as he comes to a halt.

Sinner

the fallen king

character info: here | character reference: here
@[Valdis]